


Harpersport

by hansolo945



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, I know this has kinda been done a thousand times, Light-Hearted, M/M, Not too much, Old Friends, Some angst, Teachers, Tony and Howard's relationship, first fic, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansolo945/pseuds/hansolo945
Summary: Alternate Universe; Steve Rogers has returned from finishing his Master's Degree that not one, but TWO of his old friends from high school have returned to their hometown. How will these old friends affect his career? His other friends? His unrequited love for Pepper? His sexuality? Will go through multiple characters' POV, starting with Steve, probably going back to him the most.





	1. Steve and Pepper

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy! This is my first published fic for now. I have others, but I like this one a lot and I'd like to get feedback on it. I know this kind of idea has been done before, but it's so inspiring when I read them and I have so many ideas for this kind of AU!

Europe had been wonderful, but as he got off the highway Steve had to admit he was happy to be going home. He’d finished his Master’s degree and was ready to be back at the school where _he_ was doing the teaching, not the learning. He’d missed his kids a lot. A few that he was particularly close with had kept in touch, emailing every so often to keep him up to date on the interim art teacher – Bucky had even once arranged a Skype session for his classes. That had been fun, but it wasn’t the same. He missed his friends, too.

He smiled, thinking about Sam and Bucky, Pepper, Natasha, Bruce, and the rest of the gang. He’d grown up with most of them, except for Pepper and Bruce, who’d moved into town later following work. Everyone else he’d known pretty much his entire life. Steve and his parents had moved from Brooklyn when he was around three when his grandfather had died. Steve’s mother, Sarah, had wanted to be closer to her mother and his father had been able to find a better job in her hometown.

Steve was still some ways away from the town limits of Harpersport, probably about thirty minutes out. He was driving at a fair clip, around ten or so miles per hour over the limit, but when he was within eyesight of the old Stark estate, he found himself slowing down. He pulled over at the side of the road where the old place was still within view. His jaw dropped, the smile wiped clean.

The Starks – Howard, Maria, their son Tony – weren’t originally from Harpersport. Steve could remember when the famous family had moved into town. Steve was probably four or five, and had been very curious about the small, dark-haired boy that followed his parents around while they were in town. He could remember how, for the first several months they lived there, everyone would stare at the Starks as they went about their business. His parents would whisper and people would talk behind closed doors about Howard and Maria and their only son. Steve didn’t really know what all the fuss was about, especially at such a young age. He was just excited at the prospect of a new kid in town that was smaller than him. Tony was actually his age, and had actually outgrown Steve for a while there, and they’d been friends through school. There was always a bit of distance when it came to Tony – nobody was quite comfortable with his family’s fame, and he didn’t know how to deal with others’ feelings very well. But he could be a lot of fun, especially when they were in high school. He was the self-proclaimed and mutually-acclaimed “King of Parties”.

The elder Starks had left Harpersport a couple months after Steve had left for college. Tony was something of a genius like his father, and had gone to MIT when he was sixteen, only sporadically coming back for summers or breaks or whenever he nearly got himself kicked out of school. His homecomings gradually grew further and further apart and more brief each time, but he returned annually for the group Christmas party until his parents died, then they only saw of him on the news and in the gossip columns. Rumors had floated around that Howard Stark had gotten involved in the government somehow and Howard and Maria gradually withdrew from all the activities they had been involved with in town, likely driven away by the small town curiosity. They were a couple that, while used to them, detested rumors. They didn’t like gossip and Steve could remember his mother being amused by Maria’s reactions to the usual small town talk.

Steve hadn’t seen Tony for years. It had been international news when Howard and Maria were killed in a car accident. Steve had been nineteen, the Starks had left only months before, it was just before Christmas. That was first year Tony didn’t come back for the annual party. It was also the first time Steve had put two and two together and realized that Howard owned the famed Stark Industries. He couldn’t believe he’d never realized that, and kicked himself for not wondering sooner why Tony and his family were so rich and famous. After that, Tony was in the news just about every week. It alternated between inventing some cool new thing and getting in trouble with the police or paparazzi – or both. Steve didn’t too much keep up with the pop culture news that Tony so often seemed to be featured in, but he did remember seeing it mentioned somewhere that his old friend had moved to the West Coast somewhere, leaving his childhood home in Harpersport empty.

Except. Except the Stark mansion was now occupied. There were moving trucks and sports cars and various pieces of un-nameable machinery occupying the driveway in front of the large house. Steve, like all other Harpersporters new that the Stark Estate was still in the Stark name – and if Tony had for whatever reason decided to sell it in the time while Steve was in Europe, Steve knew that Bucky would have let him know if he knew. And Bucky knew everything. (Bucky had replaced his mother as the town gossip).

So that must mean it was Tony.

Maybe.

Steve shook his head. _It could be a friend, or someone renting the place._ He watched the action in front of the house for another moment and then started back on his way home. It wasn’t any of his business what Tony did, it hadn’t been even back when they were friends, really. Wasn’t like anyone could change his mind when it was made up, anyway.

His thoughts were only occupied with Tony Stark for about another five miles. That was when he hit the first stop light and saw the first familiar face. Nick Fury, who was now the principal at the school he used to teach at – the school where Steve now taught. Fury had been their History teacher when Steve and the rest of them were in school.

Nick drove a large black Suburban with tinted windows. After a moment of being stopped at the light he rolled his window down and rapped on Steve’s passenger side window. Steve rolled that one down to grin at his boss.

“Hey, Nick,” he greeted cheerily.

“How are the socialists doing?”

“They’re great.”

“I’m sure they are,” Nick said dryly, making Steve chuckle. Nick wasn’t fond of Europe. “You’ll be back at work next week, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” And with that, Fury rolled his window back up and drove off. The car behind Steve’s truck honked and he took off too.

Harpersport wasn’t big, but it wasn’t that small, either. A population of under 10,000. There were what the locals referred to as ‘wings’ of the town – North, South, East, and West. The East Wing of the town was on the water. The Stark Estate was on southern side of the East Wing, right on the water, and Natasha and Pepper lived on the northern side, about a mile from the shore. Steve and Bucky lived just about smack dab in the middle of the town, close to the school. The way the roads were laid out, Steve had to come in from the east and wind in. Not everything was walkable, but it was bikeable, certainly. There were lots of cyclists, and Steve was pleased to see that he’d missed the construction to put in bike lanes while he was in Europe.

He and Bucky had moved into Bucky’s childhood home, eventually buying it from Bucky’s aunt who still lived in the basement apartment with her late husband’s young nephew, Peter. The house was pretty large for just two guys, after all. It was two stories, plus the basement apartment and a large attic that they had renovated into a DIY home theater. When he’d left the spring before, Bucky, Bruce, and Sam had been in the process of repainting the exterior. The original paint had been white with blue trim, but they’d opted for a more modern pale gray. To Steve’s slight dismay, he could see pulling up the street Bucky had decided to go with yellow accents. Once he was in the driveway, though, Steve had to admit it wasn’t awful. It coordinated well, and fit in with the rest of the houses on the street. They were all older, Victorian-style row houses that had been updated and repainted.

Steve took a breath as he stepped down from the truck. He could hear people out back. He braced himself and headed around the back of the house. Nobody jumped or shouted or tried to surprise him when he shut the gate behind him, but they did smile and he got several cheerful “Hey, Steve!”’s. All of his friends were there, as well as quite a few students and parents. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Bucky shedding oven mitts and a spatula, making a beeline straight for him. Steve braced himself.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was a good two or three inches shorter than Steve’s 6’1”, but he could still pick his oldest friend up and swing him around.

“Buck!” Steve finally squeaked, hugging him back. “I can’t breathe!”

Bucky finally took a step back and grinned at him, his face stretched wide and his eyes glowing with joy. Sam was right behind Bucky, next in line for a hug, and after him were Bruce and Natasha. Those two seemed to be a little more reserved than Steve seemed to remember, but he was passed around from student to student before he could ask.

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes of the greetings, Steve was able to duck inside the house to throw his bags in his room and shower and change and all that after being in the car for several hours.

He was stopped in the kitchen before he could head upstairs, though. Stopped by two long, tan, perfect legs, whose perfection was only emphasized by the sky high wedges they were balanced on top of. Pepper turned around when Steve set his bag down on the counter.

“Hey stranger,” he said hoarsely.

She grinned, her face lighting up. She was so much more beautiful than Steve remembered, her ice blue eyes were bright and her face was makeup-free. She’d grown her bangs out and her long strawberry-blonde hair was loose and wavy, swirling around her shoulders. She stepped gracefully into Steve’s offered embrace.

God, he loved hugging her. She smelled great, felt great against him. Her dress was short, but a classy short. Always the lady.

“Hi, Steve. How was Prague? And Paris? Did you love it?” She asked him excitedly. Before he’d left, she’d regaled him with all of her travel stories and adventures from her time in Europe. Or rather, times. She’d been several times while in school.

“It was amazing. You should have been there,” he said. She flushed a little, and Steve felt his ears go hot. He and Pepper had flirted casually for a long time, since she’d started working part-time at the school. They’d even gone on what he might consider a date here and there, but he’d always been too preoccupied with his Master’s degree or his students or she’d been to engrossed in her work with various companies to ever really commit to each other, or even to establish that their feelings were remotely mutual. But still, Steve was in love with her. And he had been for a long time. He wasn’t quite sure how she really felt, but he knew she was fond of him. He could see it in her eyes, standing right here in front of him.

Suddenly the back door burst open and Natasha entered with the ice bucket. The melted ice sloshed over the side and onto the kitchen floor when she halted. She shot him a crooked smile and Pepper turned away to help her with the bucket and clean up the mess.

“I’ll be down in a few; Pepper I want to catch up later!”

He could hear her smile when she called back to him. “Absolutely!”

Steve made his way through the living room to the front stairs. As he climbed him he noticed Bucky – or somebody, maybe May – had gotten around to hanging up the families’ photographs up the stairway walls like they’d talked about. They were all muddled together, the Rogers family, the Barnes family, the Parker family, school pictures, some modern photos, a couple paintings and framed drawings of young Peter’s, even some old Victorian-looking photographs. Since Tony had been on his mind lately, the photograph of Steve, Natasha, and Tony at Senior Prom caught Steve’s eye. Natasha had surprised everyone by inviting Tony, who had surprised everyone by agreeing and coming back from MIT to attend. He was different by then, a little older – or at least he seemed older. He and Natasha had adopted Steve, who hadn’t asked anyone so as to not insult the girls that had invited him and promptly been declined. Back then there was only one person he wanted to have anything to do with – Sharon Carter. Who wasn’t allowed to go to his prom. And then she’d left for college and hadn’t come back.

Steve studied each of their faces in the picture, their sloppy teenage grins and cheesy prom attire. Natasha was in the middle of him and Tony, pulling them down to her. Steve’s eyes flicked to the next framed picture, a candid photo of him and Pepper. She was laughing, dressed in a pair of overalls like him, and they were both holding paintbrushes. That was the day all the faculty and staff gathered to repaint the classrooms. Pepper was technically a part-time administrator at the school, and she occasionally subbed for a few subjects, but she was always happy to help out. She had fit into their friend group perfectly, balancing out their crazy with her steady and understated ways. That’s not to say she wasn’t fun – she was a terrific dancer, and could hold her liquor to boot. She and Natasha and Sam had been known to rip up the dancefloor a time or two. And she was gradually teaching Steve to dance. He was not very graceful on the dancefloor, and mostly he was happy to just stand back and watch her.  

Steve smiled once more at the photo and continued up the stairs.

His room was mostly unchanged, save a basket of laundry Bucky and May had obviously been piling odd pieces of his clothing in as they went through the laundry. May, probably, had made his bed so it would be fresh for his return. His bathroom was clean and he had new towels hung over the bar. He dumped his bag on the dresser, cranked on the old shower, and stripped off his traveling clothes, throwing them down the laundry chute.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he was dressed and returning to his party.

 

Three hours later, his yard was empty save his closest friends who were helping to clean up. Aunt May and Peter had retired to the basement (it was after ten, after all, and far past Peter’s bedtime) and Bucky had pulled out the expensive beer. As they drank and picked up loose bits of paper around the yard, Steve regaled his times in Europe and talked about his final months in his Master’s program. When they moved into the kitchen to do some more formal cleaning – washing May’s dishes and storing leftovers people had brought – his friends asked questions. And of course they were mostly the embarrassing kind. _Did he find a girlfriend in Europe? Or at least go on any dates? Did you at least get laid? How were the bathrooms?_

He laughed with them, his ears hot as he listened to Pepper’s quiet, tinkling laugh amidst the others’ roaring.

Finally, they all settled in the living room. Steve was in one of the easy chairs, Sam in the other. Bucky was on the couch with Pepper and Scott and Wanda; Natasha and Bruce were in their usual spot on the loveseat, but they weren’t quite touching. It was close to midnight, but nobody had school the next day. Well, Pepper was going to look at some new company in the afternoon, but she didn’t say too much about it. They all wanted to hear from Steve after his absence, but after three and some hours of hearing his own voice, he was tired of it.

“Okay! Okay,” he laughed after the fourth question about getting laid in Europe (this time from Sam). “I’m tired of talking about me! Tell me what I’ve missed! What’d I miss?”

His friends all looked at each other. All of the sudden they seemed… different. Almost… cocky. Well, there was definitely some reservation, too.

“What?” Steve sighed.

Bucky cleared his throat and grinned cheekily before: “Sharon’s back, man.”

Steve stared blankly at him.

“Carter. Sharon Carter.”

“Yeah – no, I got that.” Steve blinked. _Sharon Carter. Here. Back in Harpersport._ “Huh. Never thought that would happen.” Last Steve had heard, Sharon was living in Washington, DC with her aunt, and working for the government somehow. This information had all been second-hand, of course – Steve and Sharon hadn’t parted ways on the best of terms.

“I heard she’s got a kid now,” Natasha said quietly. Everyone looked at her, but she didn’t look at anyone but Steve. Her gaze was careful; she was gauging his reaction.

Bruce and Pepper looked fairly blank, though interested. Neither of them had been around in Steve and Sharon’s heyday. Steve and Sharon – rather, their relationship – had been the talk of the town in high school. There were three schools in Harpersport: The K-12 prep school that Steve and company had gone to, and now (most of them) worked at; their rival school, an elementary, middle, and high school in the West Wing of town; and the all-girl’s high school that Sharon had attended. She’d started with them and then her mother had transferred her when she turned fifteen. Sharon’s relationship with Steve was a little taboo, and that tended to cause some rough patches in the relationship. When Sharon had announced she wasn’t going to go to the same college of Steve (as she’d promised), they… well, again, they hadn’t ended things on the best of terms.

 

Starting with Wanda at eleven-thirty, everyone gradually left, leaving Steve and Bucky to collect the abandoned beer bottles and recycle them. They didn’t talk much while they picked up and closed up the house – they didn’t need to. They were as close as brothers, and both were just happy to be back in the same space. Bucky bear-hugged Steve again before they both turned in for the night.

“Really missed you, man. Starting to really hate Sam – hung out with him too much while you were gone.”

Steve grinned. “Aw c’mon, Sam and I aren’t _that_ different.”

Bucky grunted and Steve grinned some more.

“Go to bed, you big punk.”

“Jerk. ‘Night.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At noon the next day, Pepper was flitting around the house – back and forth to her room, the bathroom, into the kitchen, through the living room – trying to make sure she had everything for her meeting that afternoon. Her hair was done, her makeup done, she was dressed professionally in a white skirt and forest-green top – and _not sexy at all_ , she tried to tell herself – but she’d emptied her briefcase for _something_ last week and had neglected to put it back together. Which resulted in the flitting and the cursing and the curious looks from Natasha.

“I don’t need to hear shit from you,” she growled as Natasha watched her over the rim of her mug.

Nat gave her an innocent face from her perch in the living room. “What, me? Never.”

Pepper rolled her eyes and poured herself a cup of tea to take inventory of her stuff. She flicked through the briefcase, making sure her files on her new client and his company, her laptop, and her datebook were all present.

“What are you so freaked out about anyway?” Nat called from the living room.

“I’m not freaked out.”

“Bull _shit_. You’re running around like a chicken with its head cut off. It’s just a new guy. What’d you, sleep with him?”

Pepper flushed, but luckily Natasha wasn’t looking at her. “ _No_.”

As a matter of fact, Pepper _had_ slept with her new client. But she hadn’t known at the time he was going to be her new client. He was just a charming, well-dressed guy at her new favorite bar in town, a place her other friends didn’t like to go. But she was trying not to think of him like that, now that she knew who he was.

Her phone buzzed. Her hand flew to where it would be in her pocket if she were wearing jeans. Natasha’s eyes flicked to the table behind her. Pepper sighed and ran to get the phone. It was a text from Steve, reading ‘ _here_ ’.

“You want to?”

Pepper looked up. “Huh?”

Natasha smirked. “Do you want to sleep with the new guy?”

“Tony Stark? No. Definitely not. Gotta go, Steve’s here.”

Pepper turned, grabbed her things, and rushed out the door, all without turning around. That way, she missed Natasha’s shocked face.


	2. Pepper

When it was clear that Pepper and Steve wouldn’t get to talk too much about the art in Europe the night before, they made plans to go out to lunch the next day. It was perfect because Steve had also offered to drop her at her meeting afterwards. They went into town to one of their favorite restaurants. Through their long lunch they chatted about Steve’s time in Europe and all the art he’d been exposed to. Eventually though, just like with Natasha, their conversation moved to her next appointment.

“So what’s the meeting about?”

“Hm? Oh, just a new client. I think he needs a PA or something to get everything in order.”

Steve nodded. Pepper’s work – it wasn’t that it wasn’t interesting, just that it _could_ be uninteresting. Steve and the others kept trying to convince her that she just needed to come work at the school full time. She wasn’t relenting thus far. Pepper liked her work – she liked consulting. That’s not to say she didn’t like working with her friends at the school, and she really loved some of the kids there, but she loved consulting too. She needed something to fix. It felt like business just needed to be in her day-to-day to keep her sane. And sometimes arranging schedules and dealing with parent calls just didn’t cut it.

She’d once told Steve as much. He nodded along. “I get it,” he’d said. “That’s why I want to finish my Master’s. Sometimes finger painting just isn’t the same as looking at Michelangelo.”

Pepper laughed. “Exactly.”

They got the check and Steve paid the bill. As they were walking out to the car, Steve asked, “So am I allowed to ask who the client is?”

Pepper considered it, thinking about any legal constrictions that might come of it. She couldn’t think of any. “I believe so.”

Steve waited. Pepper pretended to be oblivious to his waiting. She tried not to smile at his subtle frustration when he asked after a beat, “Well, who is it?”

She laughed, a little nervously. “Stark Industries. Tony Stark. I’m supposed to meet him at his house, which is kind of strange, but he didn’t want to meet at my usual place. Do you know where he lives? I know Bucky knows everything, but I don’t know how much of a chance you two got to catch up last night. I’ve got Stark’s address somewhere…” She trailed off when she realized that a) she was rambling, and b) Steve was staring at her like she was crazy.

“What?”

“ _Tony Stark_ is your new client?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So he _is_ back!”

She almost choked. “Back?! What do you mean back?”

Steve’s head jerked back. “We never told you about Tony Stark?”

“No! You _know_ Tony Stark?!”

“He grew up here!”

“ _Here_ , here?!”

“Yeah!”

“ _Why didn’t you tell me?!_ ”

“I thought we had! Haven’t we talked about the crazy parties we used to go to?!”

Pepper thought for a second. “I guess!” she huffed, her eyes wide, eyebrows crooked.

“We didn’t tell you who was _throwing_ all those parties?”

“No!”

Steve sat back. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh! Oh my god!” Pepper tried to take a deep breath. _They knew Tony_. _Tony knew them._ “So what happened? What made you lose touch?”

Steve, too, waited a few moments before answering. “He left, and then his parents died, and then he never came back.”

“So, nothing too bad? Nothing like… Sharon?”

“No, nothing like Sharon.”

“Sorry.” Steve didn’t look at her. “Natasha told me.”

Steve sighed. “I’m actually kind of glad for that.” Pepper looked over at him. “I don’t like talking about it. I was different back then.”

Pepper rubbed his arm. “I know.”

 

Neither Steve nor Pepper said much on the way over to Tony’s. Neither could think of much to say. They were both pretty wrapped up in their own thoughts. Steve pretty much drove on autopilot, his mind seeming to automatically rewind back to when he knew the way to Tony’s house like the back of his hand. Probably better than anywhere in town. They had to drive along the coast for the most part, so the view was nice, but it was a little tricky because there was only one road that allowed you to get to the driveway of the place. The house itself was visible from many places, but there was only one way in, as Howard Stark had planned.

Pepper was too busy worrying to pay any real attention to the scenery. She was hoping that Tony would keep his big mouth closed around Steve – she didn’t need anybody knowing that she’d slept with one of her clients. And Bucky would find it all that more juicy if it was Tony Stark, an old friend and a known womanizer. And if Bucky found out – which if Steve did, surely Bucky would – the whole town would quickly know. Bucky gossiped like an old woman. He knew _everything_. And Tony didn’t strike Pepper as someone who liked to keep his conquests (like her) quiet.

Suddenly a lightbulb came on. Pepper sneakily pulled out her phone and found her new client’s cell number. He’d told her to call or text any time – _“I’ll make any kind of an exception for you, doll”_. She texted him: _‘I’m on my way. Steve Rogers is coming with me, know you 2 used to know each other. Please, please don’t say anything about the other night. Please!’_ She sent the message, and she could even see when it was received, but he didn’t reply.

She looked out the truck windows to try and distract herself, pointedly avoiding any possibility of making eye contact with Steve. The water was _right_ there. She hadn’t realized how close they were to the coast. She’d never been to his house before; when they’d first met he’d been staying at the hotel the bar was in. That’s where they’d spent their… time… together.

_Okay,_ house _is not the correct_ _…_ _term,_ she thought when the place came into view. The Stark mansion, from its driveway, was a rambling estate, low-lying in most parts except the main house. Really, it looked like several buildings all shambled – _properly_ shambled, _professionally_ shambled – together. The gardens were spectacular, having been maintained in the ten plus years the Starks had been absent from the place. Pepper seemed to recall that, while they never mentioned the owner of the mansion, Steve and company had discussed that people still worked at the old place, keeping up the landscape and maintaining the landmark.

As they drew closer, she could see the house had lots of balconies and terraces. Workers buzzed about the place, moving … things, opening windows and doors, cleaning, planting flowers in window boxes and planters.

“Maria used to love to garden,” Steve said quietly. Simultaneously, he pulled the truck into a parking space in the spacious drive, next to a black limousine manned by two stocky drivers who were chatting, sitting on the hood of the car and smoking. They looked over at Steve and Pepper in the truck curiously, but neither made a move to greet them.

Pepper craned her neck around to look at the main entrance they’d pulled up in front of. The doors were open, and workers were pulling furniture from two large moving trucks and moving it into the house. An older man in a beautiful, well-tailored suit sans jacket stepped out and waved at Pepper and Steve, beckoning to them.

“Here we go,” Pepper said under her breath. She made sure to shoot a reassuring look at Steve, and when that didn’t seem to help his obvious anxiety, she rubbed his arm again. “Here we go.”

They climbed down out of the truck and headed toward the house.

“You must be Ms. Potts!” The older man called, walking jauntily towards them. He had a loud, confident voice that carried across the lawns. He was bald, with a well-kept gray beard. “Hi, I’m Tony’s CFO, his right-hand man, Obadiah Stane.” Stane reached for Pepper’s hand as soon as she was within reaching. “Charmed.”

Pepper smiled tightly and gestured toward Steve. “This is Steve Rogers. We work together down at the school, and I learned today that he and Tony knew each other growing up.”

Stane rocked back on his heels, looking Steve up and down. “Oh, yes. I don’t believe I ever got your name, but I do remember you. One day I was here and you and Tony were running around driving Howard nuts – you were about the size of my forearm back then – and then the next summer you’d grown three feet and could’ve played for the Patriots!”

Steve flushed. “Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Of course, of course. Well, very nice to finally meet you, Mr. Rogers. I’d invite you in, but the lawyers are inside. Perhaps next time?”

Steve spotted that as his cue to leave and his entire body relaxed with relief. “Yeah, yeah, definitely. Pep, tell Tony…” He trailed off, unsure of what to have her tell Tony.

“I’ll tell him you’ll stop by some time or something,” she supplied. “You’ll see him around.”

Steve smiled gratefully. “Yeah. Great. Thanks.”

“See you later,” Pepper waved as Steve got into his truck as quickly as he could. He didn’t exactly _rip_ out of the driveway, but it was surely pretty close.

 

Stane was waiting patiently for Pepper’s attention. When she finally turned to him, he was staring out into middle-space, his pleasant expression twisted into something more… sinister, almost. His face cleared within moments, however, as he turned back to her.

“Sorry. We’re having a bit of a bad moment with some suppliers in Japan.”

“No problem. Where is Mr. Stark, if you please?”

Stane’s expression darkened a little into mildly perturbed. He sighed. “Yes, well. Tony’s working. As always. We’ll catch up with him in a few.” He took another breath and offered Pepper his arm. “First, we meet the lawyers.”

 

The lawyers were a mixed bunch – a few from LA, a few from New York, a few locals. The group of them – about twenty in total – were standing in what was probably once a parlor or a sitting room. The ceilings were tall and the room gave off that grand sense, but currently no furniture occupied the place, the fireplace had been knocked out, scaffolding and plastic adorned the walls, and the room was lit by construction lighting rigged all over the scaffolding.

The lawyers’ shoes and the hems of their pants were dusted with white plaster dust. Pepper’s heels left their dainty mark on the powdery floor, and she suddenly wished she’d worn heavy boots and jeans. Maybe some coveralls.

“So are we gonna meet him _today_?” One of the local lawyers asked.

Stane gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I doubt it.”

“ _No_ ,” came a voice over the loudspeaker. The lawyers started and then huffed collectively. Pepper bit back a smile – they were almost comical, wearing the same expression, the same suit.

She glanced over at Stane, who looked pained. He glanced at her with a toothy smile and then at the ceiling. “Who _will_ you be seeing today, Tony?” Pepper noted that Stane called Tony’s name like he was talking to a five-year-old. Condescending. Patronizing. His earlier comments to Steve came back to her, and she realized that Stane probably had known Tony since he was a five-year-old, if not earlier.,

“ _Just you, Obie, and Miss Potts, thanks,”_ came the voice again. Tony’s voice, from somewhere else. The speakers weren’t even visible.

Obadiah Stane sighed audibly and shrugged at the lawyers, though he didn’t look too sore about sending them away. “Sorry, boys, not today.”

At ‘boys,’ Pepper stiffened. She took count of the lawyers again. There were no women. She was the only woman in sight, save some of the gardeners she’d seen outside. Stane seemed to notice her change in posture. As the lawyers filed out, he leaned over towards her. “Something wrong, Ms. Potts?”

“Tell me, Obadiah,” she said in a hushed voice, intentionally using his first name, “Is Mr. Stark a misogynist?”

“What?”

“Does Mr. Stark have something against women?”

Stane looked very taken aback. “Where did this come from? Of course not!”

Pepper eyed him. “There are no female lawyers.”

She watched Stane process the information – fairly quickly – and then amusement entered his eyes. He chuckled dryly. “Ah. Yes. Well, Ms. Potts, that was not Tony’s doing, I assure you. It was _mine_.” Pepper raised an eyebrow at him. He offered his arm again and led her out of the newly lawyer-free room. “ _You_ will be the only woman in any kind of administrative position that’s in direct contact with Mr. Stark. He tends to… get himself in trouble otherwise. But you, you’re something else. Trustworthy, where the others were not.” At her expression, he nodded assuredly. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard many things about you, Ms. Potts. Wonderful things that have reassured me of your capabilities.”

“Really.”

“Oh, yes.” When her skeptical expression persisted, Stane tried a different tactic to soothe her. He sighed deeply, his smile fading to just a small, dry, tight-lipped one. “To be frank, Ms. Potts, I’ve been assured you won’t take any of his bullshit.”

Pepper blinked and then smiled demurely. Enlightenment. “Right. So what you mean is that he’s slept with all the others and then pissed them off so much they rat on him somehow.”

Stane chuckled, stepping back and holding open a door for her. “Exactly.”


	3. Pepper and Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one - sorry - but here's Tony's introduction. I'll add more soon!

The doorway opened to a set of stairs that went down into the basement. The stairs were new, glass that was attached to the wall and under-lit, giving the area the sense of a very modern cave. It was by no means a small space; the staircase curved down and around a large area with a fireplace and a modern, flat, uncomfortable-looking gray couch. There was a king-sized flowered, red quilt wadded over the end of the couch, and a balled-up sweatshirt at the other end, like a make-shift pillow. Other than that, like the other parts of the house she’d seen, the room was devoid of personal touches.

As they stepped down into the room, Pepper could more fully see the cavern that was Tony Stark’s workshop. She gaped at the sheer size of it. How they had even managed to _do_ this… she had no idea. The space was far from empty, but she could tell it was far from finished. There was one lone figure in the area besides Pepper and Stane – Tony Stark. He was halfway up the wall, on the scaffolding, welding… something. He was wearing a jumpsuit, but the top half was off his torso with the long sleeves tied around his waist, leaving him in just a black tank top and a welding mask up top.

Stane yelled up to try and catch his attention, but either Tony couldn’t hear him or he was ignoring him. Stane gave up, shaking his head in defeat. He went and sat down on the couch, throwing the blanket up over the back. Pepper took a few cautious steps into the workshop, and then when Stane didn’t stop her and Tony didn’t turn around, she went deeper into the space. The clicking of her heels echoed through the cavernous space, over the sound of Tony’s welding even.

There were boxes and crates all over the place. Most of them were opened, but almost none of them had been emptied. The larger wooden crates contained various pieces of metal and machinery, and were labeled in a way that Pepper couldn’t decipher. Some sort of language that… was half-English half, well, not. Near a desk in the middle of the room were some picked through cardboard boxes. As she examined them, Pepper realized that the ones on the left side were slowly being unpacked, but the ones on the right of the desk were being filled. She presumed with Tony’s father’s belongings. She couldn’t help but to kneel next to the box of Howard’s belongings; on the top were framed photographs, beneath those, endless notebooks – filled and half-filled, warped by age and damaged by water – occupied the rest of the boxes. The photographs were of various subjects, mostly of Howard and different dignitaries, presidents, other inventors and businessmen. There were a couple of young Tony and his mother, Maria. And then in one of the boxes she found a book of photographs from the Stark family’s time in Harpersport.

She sat down in the desk chair to flip through the book. Stane was busy on his cellphone and Tony was still welding up in the rafters. The very first photo was of Howard and Tony in front of the house. They were in the front bushes, Howard sitting in the dirt in a business suit, Tony no older than four, grasping Howard’s hand, trying to stay upright as Howard laughed and gazed adoringly at his son.

Pepper flipped through the pages, watching Tony’s progression. She wondered who had taken the photos – Howard and Maria seemed to be in too many of them to be the photographer. There were photos of Maria in the garden, Howard in his office or working, Tony with one or both of them. A lovely photo of Howard and Maria with their hands clasped together and their heads together was opposite a photo of a young Tony, solo in the frame, not smiling, just looking up at the camera.

Pepper flipped right past the first picture of Steve. She went back a page to find the tiny Steve that everyone was always talking about. He and Tony were arm in arm, grinning up at the camera. Natasha was in the background, not looking at the camera, talking with some small brown-haired boy that was unknown to Pepper. There were a few more photos of Steve before he hit his growth spurt. She tapped tiny Steve with her index finger, staring at the photo, deep in thought.

“He was a shrimp, right?” A voice appeared right behind her. She jumped. It was Tony, grinning over her shoulder. “Sorry.”

She glared at him. “No you’re not.”

He shrugged and kept on grinning, a twinkle in his eye.

Over at the lounge area, Stane was getting up. Tony noticed and held out a finger to him, uncomfortably close to Pepper. “Nope, Obie, give us some time to talk.”

“Mr. Stark,” Pepper hissed.

“ _Tony_ ,” Stane almost sang, “One of these days, boy, you’re going to have to talk to me again.” He was already giving up, not even attempting to fight. He sighed and shrugged as though he was tired of an hours-long argument with his trying CEO. He shook his head, muttering to himself, collecting his things. With one last look, Stane went up the stairs, and then Pepper was alone with Tony Stark.

“Ms. Potts, we meet again,” he held out his hand. Begrudgingly, Pepper took it with her own, but instead of shaking her hand, Stark gently turned her hand and kissed her knuckles. He looked at her through his dark eyelashes, and though Pepper got a warm feeling from that look, she was able to narrow her eyes in warning at him. “Tour?” he asked innocently.

“Please,” Pepper replied neutrally. “But it had better not end in your bedroom.”

She noticed him cut his eyes to the couch for a quick second. “No problem, it’s not ready yet. But you’ll be the first to know.”

Still having ahold of her hand, Tony tucked it into the crook of his bare arm. Pepper blew out a silent sigh and let him lead her out of the workshop. As they passed the couch, she pulled Tony to a stop. “Are you sleeping here?”

“Why? Worried about my well-being? It’s very kind of you, but please don’t worry too much – we don’t need a bed to –”

“Whatever you were going to say next,” Pepper interrupted him, “don’t.”

He grinned. “Of course, Ms. Potts.” He let go of her hand and stepped away for a moment, giving her space to breathe and regain herself. And then suddenly he was sans the jumpsuit and dirty tank top, only in his boxers, rooting around in yet another box behind the couch. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a clean t-shirt. “Better?”

“Um,” Pepper said intelligently. “Yes. Thanks.”

He smiled at her and reclaimed her hand on his arm. As he walked, he talked, telling her about the construction on the house, what was finished, what was yet to be started, the changes to the place. “So my construction team is finished with the workshop –” Pepper interrupted him with a look. “Yeah, no, I mean _they’re_ done down there. I’ve got quite a ways to go, of course. Unless you’d prefer to have an office down there…?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Then it’s finished.”

“No hot tub or sauna down there? Spinning bed with a disco ball above it?”

He slid her a look, surprised by her humor. “The sauna is off the gym,” he said easily with a sly grin. “Those other things… well, my room’s not finished. I appreciate all the design advice one could offer.” She rolled her eyes at him, making him grin some more.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE leave feedback!!!! I love it! If you have any ideas, anything you'd like to see going forward, I'm very open to your ideas! If you approve of my using them, I might even sneak something you want to read/see in in the future! 
> 
> Will have other works up... eventually.


End file.
